


Straight Shooters

by rumblestrip



Category: Motorcycling RPF
Genre: Cowboys and Indians, M/M, Male Slash, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-29
Updated: 2014-04-29
Packaged: 2018-01-21 07:25:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1542506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rumblestrip/pseuds/rumblestrip
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written post-Austin MotoGP 2013</p>
            </blockquote>





	Straight Shooters

"Disappointed in you, Matt."

Matt looks around the Austin paddock for the source of that half-serious, half-mocking voice.

"What you on about?" 

Cal's head pops out of his motorhome door, all flashing grin and mussed hair.

"Expected you to go for the full Texan look, Matt. I like your outfit, but... " He looks Matt up and down, and Matt feels his cheeks get warmer at being scrutinised. Scrutinised by Crutchlow. 

"Well I can't get away with wearing a cowboy hat on the grid, Cal. You'd take the piss out of me so much the race start would have been delayed."

Matt tries his best not to trip over his words - or his feet. Cal laughs, and that jumpy feeling Matt gets in his stomach sometimes when he's around him dissipates. A little.

"Just a sec," Cal says. "Got one here for you."

He retreats back into the motorhome for a second, coming back out almost immediately with a cream-coloured cowboy hat in his hand. 

"Got these free," he shrugs, holding up the hat. Matt sees the black bandana wrapped around the middle, and the usual neon-green claw marks of Monster emblazoned on the front. "Want one?"

"Think I could fit that in my suitcase. Sure!"

Cal makes to hand it to Matt, but snatches it away again as soon as Matt reaches out.

"Come in for a brew first."

Matt follows him up the steps. He's been in this motorhome before, but Lucy's not here this time, he knows she isn't; he's just seen her at the other end of the paddock talking to another one of the girlfriends. He shuts the door behind him, and turning to face Cal once more, sees him twirling the hat around on a finger.

"Let me," Cal tells him, placing the hat firmly on Matt's head.

Matt leans down and tries to catch a glimpse of his reflection in the kettle. He likes how he looks in it, wants to mime firing a gun – but Crutchlow would laugh at him.

"Better than your normal look," the voice behind him says. "C'mere so I can fix it – looks a bit wonky."

Matt complies, turning back to face Cal. He expects Cal to straighten the hat, but instead Cal's mouth clamps down onto his, teeth grazing against his tongue. Matt's stomach is fluttering and he can barely move his mouth to respond to the crush of Cal's lips against his own. He staggers backwards, his calves connecting with the side of the sofa, and tips down onto the seat.

_Why am I so fucking clumsy_ is the main thought in his head as Cal gives a snort of laughter. Matt sits back, watching as Cal rests his hands on the top of the sofa at either side of his head. He leans his body in close so that his large thighs are pressed tightly against Matt's knees. Cal bends his head and comes closer. Matt can feel his breath on his neck as Cal gently bites the skin underneath his earlobe. 

"Quite like you in that hat, mate."

Matt surrenders to Cal's kiss once more, but keeps his hands firmly by his side. He won't reach up. He won't circle his hands around Cal's waist, or run them underneath his black polo shirt. He won't tangle them in his messy brown hair, or grab onto those sinewy, powerful arms. He won't.

"You can touch me, you know," Cal says, as if reading his mind. Matt gives a gasp as Cal puts a leg on either side of his thighs and sits down on his lap, their chests now touching. Cal's heavy - too heavy, but his body's warm and he smells of leather and shower gel and energy drink.

Matt sees Cal glance sideways, sees the sly grin. He gives a groan of dismay as Cal leans over and grabs a small tube from off the worktop.

"Lucy's left her lippy."

He chucks it to Matt, who's puzzled.

"What do you want me to do w... "

Cal prods the underside of Matt's hat with the tip of his finger, raising it upwards on his forehead slightly.

"If there's a cowboy, there has to be an Indian, right Matt?"

"Whatever you say, Tonto," Matt responds drily, but as Cal settles himself atop him, he realises what Cal's plan is, and takes the lid off the lipstick. Untwisting the stick, he pretends to apply it to Cal's lips, and the rider pushes his hand away with a gruff ' _Fuck off_!'

Matt laughs, running his thumb across the top of the lipstick so it's coated, and then smearing two horizontal lines of scarlet gently across the top of each of Cal's cheekbones; first the left then the right. His fingers curl around Cal's cheek as he does so, and Matt feels the rough stubble; the strong jawline. 

"Shall I get you a little bow and arrow as well then?" he says as he finishes. 

"Shall I get _you_ a holster and a Sheriff's badge?" 

"Mmm," Matt breathes. "Wouldn't mind."

Cal kisses him again; softer this time but no less hungry. Matt realises that this won't be the first time his face has been left covered in lipstick after a kiss, but it'll definitely be the weirdest.

"Yippee ki yay," he murmurs into Cal's mouth.


End file.
